Hourglass
by AquariumJello
Summary: Because their days were counted from the very beginning. --A collection of Aerith/Zack one-shots.
1. January

**Author's Note:** I am starting a collection and it's not about Cloud and Tifa! …Okay, maybe it was going to be about CloTi in the beginning but it's Zaerith now. My main objectives of this would be to improve my writing and most importantly, improve my fluff. I admit, I can't write fluff. My previous stories are pretty fluff-less. I am going to try my absolute best so give me a break guys! :P

Now, let me introduce the new fruit of my labour, Hourglass. This is a year's collection of stories, meaning that there will be twelve chapters, one for every month. That does not however, mean that every story will be during the same year. It just won't workout that way, sorry. I previously planned the stories to have nothing to do with each other but I decided otherwise. It will just be light references to other months, though. I am planning to write the stories in a way that you can read them in whatever order pleases you. And lastly, some of the stories will have something to do with their month while some will just be placed where they are to keep to the order of events.

With that said, I have actually been writing this chapter for a very long time. I finished it some time in August and have been editing and fixing it ever since. I wanted it to be perfect and some days I would like it while some days I would hate it. I am pretty pleased with it right now so I am posting it before I change my mind again. :)

Please keep in mind that I am still not entirely convinced with my portrayal of Aerith but I tried to do it as well as possible. I would love to hear all and any kind of feedback. Reviews make me smile, even if it's constructive criticism. In other words: REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!

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_Final Fantasy_ and all related themes and characters, © Square Enix, Ltd.  
_Hourglass, _© Vanilla Raindrops, 2009-2010.

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_January_

Snow.

It was nothing short of a miracle, Aerith thought as she watched the snowflakes spiral down from above in a mad dance and land in front of her, in the same place where her colourful flowers would bloom once again in a few months. Snow was extremely uncommon in Midgar due to the pollution and constant smog. It was even more so in the Slums that were covered by the Plate, a roof which also served as the foundations for the city above. Most people under the Plate had never even seen rain although it was plentiful in Midgar (courtesy of the dark clouds that always hung above the city). Aerith was one of those people. And the only reason she had the opportunity to witness the white wonder was because of the Church.

The building in question was ancient and ruined. However, when Aerith had found the abandoned structure she instantly fell in love with it and began to call the Church her own. She loved every part of it, even the huge missing chunk of the roof. The said missing part of the building was a gaping hole that extended all the way up to the great sky, a vast blanket of space which frightened Aerith. Looking so far up made her feel small and vulnerable, so at first Aerith avoided the area under the opening altogether. But the flowers seemed to like the access to the sky, so eventually, although cautious at first, the flower girl also came to appreciate the rare glimpses of blue and those wonderful uncommon rays of the sun on her skin.

Apart from giving her viewing access to the world above, the roof was also responsible for other great marvels. Not so long ago, a curious man fell out of the sky, through the ceiling and right into her flowerbed. Never had Aerith been more startled in her life. A mark of all SOLDIERs, his eyes were like the sky Aerith avoided so much. So in the beginning, she was scared of him too.

But the girl soon came to realize that Zack wasn't scary at all. He was full of laughter and optimism and always made her smile. He was different from others, different from everything she expected him to be. He couldn't have been the monster that everyone depicted him to be; monsters didn't have hearts, she reasoned, while he had one of the purest hearts imaginable. And that was enough to allow Aerith to love Zack in every way possible.

Feeling brave and foolish at the same time, Aerith rose halfway from her safe spot on one of the pews and reached out a hand to touch the falling flecks of white. She withdrew her hand instantly with a gasp, as though the snowflakes had bitten her, and slumped back down.

"It's cold!" she exclaimed softly to herself, her voice full of awe and surprise, as she stared with wide eyes at the drops of moisture that had once been tiny snowflakes on her hand.

"What did you expect?" A husky male voice came from behind her. The flower girl whipped her head back to see Zack, her Zack, leaning against a door and smiling in amusement at her discovery, his hands folded around his chest in a relaxed manner. Her face broke into a wide grin that made Zack smile more as he made his way towards the pews and sat down next to Aerith. He hadn't seen her for nearly a month, being sent on missions for SOLDIER to every damned corner of the planet. But she didn't mention a single thing about his prolonged absence. Instead, she seemed just as happy to be with him as he was with her.

"I don't know," Aerith admitted sheepishly, looking away in embarrassment. Next to Zack, she always felt a bit foolish and inexperienced about the real world, "I just thought that maybe they would be soft and gentle and warm…like feathers." She managed to look up to see Zack smile at her and then noticed his hair.

"Zack! Your hair is all white!" she said, giggling as she ran her gentle hands through his wild black spikes to brush off the snow. When she was done he grinned crookedly and thrashed his head from side to side like a wet dog. Aerith laughed and traced his jaw, letting her fingers linger on his X-shaped scar. She had missed his face, his presence, his smile. But not a single trace of her loneliness remained anymore as he was with her. Aerith smiled about that before turning back to the falling snow before her.

Zack Fair hated snow. He had been on too many missions atop high mountains in the middle of nowhere while caught in roaring blizzards. And he certainly did not appreciate the wind whipping snowflakes into his eyes to the point where even he, with his Mako enhanced vision, could not see a single thing. Zack hated how snow happened to get into his hair and melt, making his scalp wet and cold. Although his hair always remained perfect, wet or dry, the sensation of having an unwanted cool wetness on your head was not necessarily pleasant. And of course, what was probably the most annoying part of it all would be when the tiny crystal whipped his face at extreme speeds. It hurt. So when Zack saw the snow fall that morning, on his one day off in possibly forever, he couldn't help but groan.

Having no snow was one of the very few things (perhaps even the only thing) he liked about Midgar. Rain was so common that locals like him could plan around it. But snow was different. Zack had intended to surprise Aerith by taking her above the Plate that day. But he knew well enough that as pretty as the white snow was while falling down, it would soon turn brown, watery and disgusting. And wet and muddy streets mixed with Midgar's natural busyness and insanity was not what Zack wanted the flower girl's first impression of the world above to be like.

But seeing Aerith in so much amazement over a minor snowfall, Zack began to wonder if snow was really all that bad.

Ever since the first time he saw her, Zack noticed how Aerith was so beautifully delicate, just like a china doll. He may have been somewhat delirious after the fall of however many stories through the Church roof all those months ago, but Zack meant it when he called Aerith an angel. She was nothing but.

Her long brown hair was always put into a neat braid at the back and tied up by the ribbon that he bought for her. It was beginning to fade but Aerith still wore it religiously and Zack couldn't help but smile every time he noticed it in her hair. And whenever he smiled, Aerith would smile too, her green eyes sparkling, the way they always did whenever she smiled and laughed. But Zack's favorite charming little quality if hers was how Aerith's ivory cheeks seemed to slightly darken to a pale shade of pink whenever she was around him. She was so sweet and pure and innocent. And some days, when Zack would compare a perfect creature like her to the monster that Shinra had made him, he couldn't help but wonder that if by loving her, he happened to be tainting her purity at the same time.

"Look at it fall," Aerith's gentle voice brought him back from his thoughts. Two shining emeralds were now locked on him instead of the white wonder. "What does the snow remind you of, Zack?" Her eyes were full of innocence and youth that he could not possess and Zack found himself not wanting to look away. Then he realized that she was awaiting his answer.

"It reminds me of…" he trailed away, rubbing his neck while trying to come up with something legit, "It reminds me of feathers." He said finally, recalling what Aerith said earlier. The SOLDIER paused once more, finding the words that weren't there before. "But not really. Feathers remind me of pain, betrayal, and lost hopes." He added in a much quieter tone, with a note of sadness in his otherwise happy demeanor. Aerith let the silence linger, knowing that he had more to say, until Zack began again with a small sad smile on his face.

"But…Feathers also remind me of purity, honour, grace that I can never have, and…"

"And freedom." Aerith finished for him. His eyes found hers once more and he smiled wider, nodding. Aerith had an uncanny gift of understanding him in ways no one else could. Zack took her hand and together they sat in compassionate silence, watching the falling snow.

"Why do you think it snows?" Aerith finally asked again, breaking the soundless state of peace. Zack turned to her, surprised, not fully understanding her question. The corners of her pink lips curved up a little at his state of confusion.

"I mean that when the Planet is happy, it's sunny. When the Planet is sad, it rains. What do you think the Planet feels when it snows?"

Zack was stumped. He had never before even thought about the Planet being sad or happy or whatever other emotions planets felt. Aerith's ability to see the world from such a different angle was one of the things he admired about her. Unfortunately, he didn't share the skill. Sure, little by little he was learning to understand and see what Aerith saw but that still wasn't enough to answer some of her questions.

"Maybe the Planet is confused?" he said hopefully.

"Confused?" Aerith replied with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, yeah. I mean, it's kind of sparkly like the sun and cold like rain so maybe it's not really sure of what it's feeling or–" but he was cut of by Aerith's giggles. Realizing how stupid his answer sounded, Zack joined in the laughter.

"You remind me of snow Zack." The flower girl said after the two of them had calmed down enough to talk. He rolled his eyes in response. "No, not the confused part, though I am sure that you are a lot of the times," she added teasingly and dodged a mock punch, "You are just so…pure and carefree. Just like feathers or snow. I want to be like that."

Zack looked at Aerith who had turned away from him to look at the snowflakes once more and wondered if she really knew just how captive he was. Shinra would never let him be free and he was stuck in their clutches until the day he died, like a helpless fly caught in a spider web. But Aerith didn't need to know that. He wouldn't let her worry or suffer over him. So bravely, not knowing if it was really the right thing to do or not, Zack hid his thoughts away from her as she continued.

"I know how silly it sounds, but I feel so jealous of snow because it's so beautiful and delicate and free. I wish I was free.

"Some nights I dream of flying. Not like a bird, but like a feather, just floating and in the sky and gently descending down. And for once, I am not afraid. That's why I want to be a bird, or snow, or a feather. So I could fly and be free and have no fear of anything. How I wish…" Zack squeezed her hand gently and Aerith smiled. She never finished but she didn't need to. He knew already knew.

And although he hated snow before, Zack was more than happy to spend the rest of the day silently watching the miraculous snowfall with Aerith near him. Her presence was everything he ever wanted. And he vowed that no matter what, he would make Aerith's wish come true. He would do everything in his power to see her fly.

Because, as Zack Fair learned that day, angels without wings dreamt of flying too.


	2. February

**Author's Note: **I finally finished this one! Yes, February turned out to be pretty tough to write. This idea had changed itself in my head about five times before I chose one and stuck with it. And then came the editing. It just felt wrong until I re-read it just now and fixed it up and here it is. Now, I originally was stuck between doing Aerith's birthday or Valentine's Day but I decided to go with neither because I couldn't really come up with enough fluff and good ideas for either of those plotlines. So thus came the skating rink. I still stuck in candy hearts because I just love them and I mentioned Valentine's Day but only briefly because Aerith and Zack never came across to me as people who would know very much about commercial holidays. But it's all part of their charm. :)

Please read and review if you want to make my day (or night since it's already past midnight here...)

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_February_

The indoor skating rink, in all of its glory, was Shinra's newest plot to gain support in the Slums. And in truth, the plan might have worked for the sparkling new recreational centre was truly a masterpiece, with its white marble columns and shiny glass walls and fake frosted trees and strings of lights that made the inside of the building look like a scene off a Christmas greeting card. But in their mad race to suck their next victims out of every penny they had, the electric company seemed to have forgotten a rather important detail: no one in the Slums had enough gil for such a luxury.

Yet people still flooded to the area that could best be described as the vaguely chosen town centre of the Slums to see the grand opening. Mainly, they came to see either the state of the art structure (which was boasted to be powered by the new "clean" mako energy) or to see President Shinra and his son, Rufus, for probably the only time in their miserable lives. The only reason that Aerith Gainsborough came to the opening ceremony was to search through President Shinra's personnel and bodyguards in hopes of finding her boyfriend, a certain raven haired SOLDIER. But by the time she had scanned the centre platform for the twentieth time with no sign of her Zack and given up hope, Aerith was caught in the great mass of people with no means of escaping without sustaining great injury.

As soon as the ribbon was cut, the otherwise stationary clump of human became a wild current, carrying the flower girl along. Fighting against the movement once again proved to be fruitless so along Aerith moved, closer to the latest creation of the self-proclaimed leaders of the world who were rumored to be slowly but surely poisoning the planet.

It took longer than expected for Aerith to finally reach the cool exterior glass and despite herself, she couldn't help but gasp along with everyone else at the sight of such a winter wonderland inside. Shinra had done a wonderful job. The entire scene, from the artificial ice to the piles of fake snow, looked so real yet so dreamlike at the same time. It was more beautiful and more valuable than everything else in the Slums combined.

Along with the rest of the observing public that had their noses pressed up to the glass, Aerith watched as the highly ranked father and son, along with the other prestigious members of their dystopian society and put on their brilliant white skates. They made their way onto the rink, smiling and laughing and showing off tricks not only for the cameras, but also for the people, as a reminder that everyone else were no more than dirt beneath Shinra's shoes.

After that day, Aerith couldn't help herself but make it a routine to pass by the skating rink as often as possible. She knew that she shouldn't fool herself into thinking that she would ever skate inside since the admission fee and skate rentals were more that her entire year's worth of salary. And she knew that she probably wouldn't be very good at skating. And most importantly, she knew that coming there only made her feel worse about her own life but regardless of all of that, she had to marvel at the skating rink's beauty and the fact that somewhere out in the big world, places like that existed out in the open for everyone's enjoyment. It made her yearn for the world outside of Midgar's walls more than ever.

A little over a week after the opening, the flower girl found herself in front of the skating rink once more, sitting on one of the brand new benches that were installed to beautify the neighborhood, for the recreational centre's sake. She watched the young kids huddled all around the doors, wishing desperately to have been luckier in life, and the adults, shaking their heads at Shinra's rude way of showing everyone up once again. Aerith wished that she could pay for all of the children, to put smiles on their little face and give them the opportunity of their unfortunate lifetime, but as always, she was small and powerless against the big bad corporate world.

It was pointless, really, sucking all the money that the Slums had left (which wasn't very much to begin with), and proving once more that Shinra was superior (a fact that was already known far and wide). The skating rink had no other use or purpose than to snub kids and cause power failures for all surrounding houses at random intervals.

"Guess who?" an all-so-familiar voice sounded from behind her. Aerith turned her head with a grin to see Zack Fair, the man who made her heart pull in a thousand different directions. She jumped up and threw her arms around him, ignoring the bench that ended up being awkwardly caught between them. Zack seemed to notice this and lifted her up higher than she thought was humanly possible and over the bench so that there were no unnecessary distance between them.

The embrace ended all too soon but Aerith satisfied herself with having her hand in Zack's as they walked around the bench and sat on it again, this time together. Zack turned to her, and with those sparkling blue eyes that looked so young and carefree, she realized he had never reminded her more of a puppy than he did at that moment.

"Do you know what day it is today?" he asked with a smirk. Her brows furrowed in confusion as she tried to recall a list of all major holidays and important dates. Zack laughed.

"Why, it's Valentine's Day, silly!" he said in an obvious manner, as if the answer was painted on his forehead.

"Valentine's Day?" Aerith repeated, "I've never heard of that holiday."

"No? It's my favourite holiday, the holiday of love and _romance_," Zack replied, wiggling his eyebrows. Aerith shook her head as Zack laughed again, "Okay, I admit, I haven't heard of it before today either. But hey, Shinra gave us a day off and free candy so I'm not complaining." Upon saying this, Zack reached into his giant pocket and pulled out a box in the shape of a red heart, taking off the lid to reveal a bunch of miniature hearts of various different colours inside. He offered the box to Aerith before taking one small heart and popping it into his mouth.

"Why does it say 'Book club?'" Aerith asked as she read the odd line off one of the hearts. Zack shrugged. Aerith rolled her eyes and put the candy into her mouth before grimacing at the taste.

"Ugh! This tastes like chalk!" she exclaimed.

"I know, but aren't they addicting?" Zack said as he put another candy heart into his mouth. Aerith watched him as he winced for the tiniest fraction of a second from the taste and reached for yet another heart. She burst into laughter while silently agreeing with him, and ate one more candy.

They finished the entire box within minutes, laughing at the cheesy messages and how they could not stop eating candy that they both agreed tasted really bad. And to Aerith, during those moments, everything felt perfect.

"So that's it, huh?" Zack asked, finally noticing the skating rink before him as Aerith nodded, "It has been everyone's topic of the month at work. I have to say though, it looks great!" Zack grabbed Aerith's hand and pulled her towards the building, stopping only when he got to the doors. He turned to her, his eyes full of mischief and glee.

"Hey Aerith, how would you like to go skating?"

The obvious answer was to say something along the lines of "I'd love to!" because skating inside had been Aerith's dream since the rink's opening. But she had seen the prices and she couldn't voluntarily let Zack spend so much gil on her. So instead, she blushed and looked away, mumbling about how expensive it was. The SOLDIER raised an eyebrow.

"Is that why there all the people are pressed up against the window, watching rather than skating?" he asked. Aerith's silence told him everything he needed to know. Reassuring her that he would be right back, Zack marched through the doors to the paying booth.

It bothered him to no end that prices like that were considered extremely expensive in the Slums. He earned more than enough in an hour to pay for ten people to skate for an entire day, from dawn to dusk. But here, everyone else would need to save up for years just to skate for ten minutes. Why was Shinra so messed up?

Zack saw Aerith watching him through the glass. All around her were kids of all ages, even some adults, who were watching the few skaters that were currently on the ice wistfully. Suddenly, he got an idea. With a smile on his face, Zack pulled out his wallet and turned to face the cashier.

"All right, everyone," Zack yelled as he back outside, "Feel free to enter inside. Each and everyone of you," he pointed his finger at all the wide eyed people surrounding him, "Each person here now has exactly one hour's worth of free skate rentals!" Nobody budged but instead stared nervously at the well-muscled man with the strange blue eyes that just screamed danger. Zack let out a sigh and rolled his eyes. He pulled the door open, ushering everyone in, "Well, come on! What are you waiting for?"

The hesitant people slowly walked in, only relaxing as they were welcomed by well-groomed attendants waiting inside with wide smiles and numerous pairs of snow white ice skates in many different sizes. Soon enough, only one person remained.

"Free?" Aerith asked with a raised eyebrow and a big smile, "Zack, you are wonderful." Wrapping him up in a hug she whispered into his ear, 'Thank you." She knew that the people, who were undoubtedly grateful, would never approach Zack out of pure fear and intimidation so she hoped that her appreciation would be enough to account for everyone else's.

"You know," he whispered back with a smile, "I paid for us too." She kissed his cheek and interlaced their fingers as she pulled him inside with her. It seemed as though her gratitude would be enough.

Aerith wasn't as bad at skating as she expected and Zack wasn't as good as he expected. So together, they turned out to be pretty equally skilled. And after falling one too many times on his own, Zack came out with a brilliant solution. He took Aerith's hand just as she was about to stumble and continued skating, balancing her up while being balanced up by her in return. Of course, a flaw in this genius plan was that an eventual fall, which was inevitable, would bring both of them down. But, as Zack reasoned, at least they would fall together. And plus, Aerith's hand in his and her smile was worth the bruises he would suffer later on.

It was as they finally completed an entire lap together without a single stumble or inaccurate step that Aerith's wish remerged in Zack's head. And all of a sudden, an idea hit him. He stopped suddenly, bringing Aerith to a stop as well with a steadying movement of his arm.

"Do you trust me?" he asked her seriously.

"Always," was her immediate answer without any hesitation and he couldn't help but smile at that trust in him. It was something that he knew he didn't receive from anyone else.

"Okay then, close your eyes and stay here." She obeyed without a doubt. Gently, Zack pulled his hand out of her grasp, "Don't peek yet, okay?" Zack said as he took a couple of shaky steps backward to get a running start. And as he sped towards Aerith, he put his arms around her small waist and lifted her up as far as she could go. "Now, open!"

Aerith opened her eyes with a sharp intake of breath. She was suspended above the ice and moving as gentle breeze blew against her face. The sparkling strings of lights became a soft blur and the fake snow all around began to resemble soft clouds. She laughed in delight. "Zack, I am flying!"

Slowly and carefully, Aerith stretched out her arms as if they were wings, hearing Zack's responsive laughter from behind her. The other skaters stopped and moved out of the way for the couple and all Aerith could see were shy smiles from every direction. Flying felt wonderful. She couldn't stop herself from beaming; Zack Fair was definitely a keeper.

Too bad that he wasn't a very good skater.

It was all a matter of time before Zack missed a step which caused a stumble which led to an unavoidable crash into a synthetic snow bank. And throughout the duration of this, all Zack was helpless to do anything but make sure that Aerith would land on top of him and suffer the least bit of damage while he took the greater fall.

The snow bank turned out to be surprisingly soft. Zack grunted. His ego was officially beyond repair now. He just hoped that his "accident" would make him less frightening to everyone else. And like déjà vu, as his eyes fluttered open Aerith's delicate face came into view, radiantly.

And so lying in the fake snow, pinned under Aerith's tiny body, Zack Fair realized that he had never been happier in his entire life.

And it only took three extra words for her to kiss him.


	3. March

**Author's Note: **Considering the fact that this is the shortest story so far, it probably should not have taken me this long to write it. But alas, I need my time to come up with ideas and work out all the little problems and learn to appreciate my final product. So yeah, all that ended up taking time.  
Anyway, this particular month's story was inspired by chipmouskin's story, _Mercenaries._ The story is a bit dark and it gives off that FFVII-original-game vibe to it. It is an amazing read by the way, and if you haven't checked it out by now then you should do that right now! So I am obviously dedicating this chapter (story? one-shot? piece?) to chipmouskin. :)

You know the usual request: please read and review so I know what I am doing amazingly well and what I am totally failing at. Even one word feedback works for me since simply knowing that people read this puts a smile on my face.

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_March_

Aerith was never fully prepared for the nightmares.

There were often nights when she slipped into a state of absolute panic and helplessness as ribbons of sickly green would wrap themselves around her body, suffocating Aerith and pulling her into a pool of hushed voices. And no matter how hard she struggled and twisted and pulled, the cocoon around her did nothing but tighten and the whispers would become quiet words, then grow louder and louder until they turned to shouts and screams of horror. And all the while she could only see green, taunting her, caressing her skin and setting it ablaze while a voice assured her that this was where she belonged, forever a drowning hostage in a pool of thoughts and dreams and memories she did not want to experience.

At other times, Aerith would dream of her Church and her flowers and the gentle ray of sunlight upon them. She would relax at the perfection of the dream, at the beauty of the paradise. But as soon as she would outstretch her hand toward the splendor, the patch of flowers would explode into a mixture of colours, petals flying in every direction. That's when Aerith would realize that she was caged behind a glass wall, helpless to do anything but watch her beloved flowers self-destruct. Then the flying petals morphed into burning buildings and the calm pale blue skies would darken and come crashing down as maniacal laughter rang from every direction and a horrid voice taunted her lack of action and the emerald flames shattered her enclosure and licked her skin as her entire vision turned green…

Those nights she would wake up in terror, clutching her sheets until her uneven breathing steadied and the tear tracks on her cheeks completely dried up. Then Aerith would stand up shakily, afraid of falling and breaking down, and walk to the window, catching a reflection of green in the glass. It would scare her, of course, and her eyes would widen before realizing that she was looking at her own reflection, and she would let out a deep breath before opening the window and closing her eyes as a cool breeze of tainted air blew across her face.

She knew that no one could be immune to nightmares but that didn't stop her from trying. She didn't want to be weak and she didn't want to have fears of things that she didn't understand and things that were yet to come. But most of all, Aerith hated how the dreams always managed to break through her composure, regardless of her readiness to face them each and every night. It bothered her that the nightmares would always scare her, no matter how repetitive or common they were. Because every single night, they made her realize that she wasn't strong, she wasn't unbreakable, and she surely couldn't save the world from the unknown on her own.

She would wish that she was normal.

With another quivering breath, Aerith would look back to her nightstand and notice the worn out pink ribbon lying on top. And like every other nightmarish night, Aerith would pick up the soft strip of fabric and clutch it in her hands as a reminder of the man would do anything for her, the man who could make her nightmares go away with a simple embrace. And she would smile.

Zack was her hero. He could do everything. And each and every day, he showed her how one person could take on and change the world, brightening one life at a time. His courage was her motivation just like he himself was her reason to live.

She wasn't strong, but she would work on becoming stronger.

She wasn't unbreakable, but she would strive to be less fragile.

And she couldn't save the world from the unknown on her own, but she would try.

For him, she would try anything. Because he was her reason to fight and her reason to improve. And with him next to her, she felt that she could do anything.

And with that in mind, just like on all other restless nights, Aerith would fall asleep peacefully, dreaming of a dark-haired SOLDIER waiting for her in a field of flowers with open arms and the most beautiful smile on his face.

* * *

A witness of death and violence was naturally expected to be haunted by nightmares regularly. Zack Fair was no exception.

Some nights he would experience terrors in forms of fallen comrades dying before his eyes, piercing screams from every direction, and red clouding his vision, all nothing more than flashes of his past mixed with his pieces of his broken imagination. Death would be all around him, a dark figure leering at the fates of the unnamed fighters. Zack couldn't stand Death. He would pull out his sword and slash at the dark silhouette that stood before him. But with every slash and with every stab, the cries grew more desperate and the stench of blood became thicker and the red around his vision escalated. The smoky ghost became more vivid until Zack found himself staring into his own reflection, albeit the glowing red eyes. And then his twin would laugh and Zack would find himself laughing an evil laugh too, a murder standing amidst a mass of unfortunates.

He would wake up yelling and refuse to sleep for nights on end, until the bloodthirsty red eyes would somewhat fade out from his memories.

There were also nights where Zack would find himself standing in a field of colour, unsure of whether it was flowers that surrounded him or just haphazard splotches of various shades. And then searing pain would rush through his body, causing him to fall to his knees and clutch his head in his hands. Zack would feel his back splitting open and try to scream soundless screams. And as his eyes would finally open and the pain would be nothing but an unpleasant memory, he would notice the colours bleeding away from him into all directions until he stood in a sea of eerie white. Then Zack would feel himself rising up; higher and higher towards pallid nothingness and he would look down to see his contrasting dark shadow as that of a winged creature, a beast atop of a monochrome world.

Nothing on the entire Planet frightened him as much as those dreams; nothing could ever shake him up quite the same way. And being afraid of things that he couldn't understand and couldn't avoid was the scariest thing in the world to Zack Fair.

He knew that they were just traumatized fantasies, nothing more than results of fearing fear. But they troubled him like nothing else, because although he knew that the nightmares couldn't shape his life, reality could. And reality seemed keen on sending him messages through his dreams.

After countless sleepless nights, Zack found that there was only one thing that could ever make his nightmares go away. It was a single flower that Aerith had given him, a random splash of colour against the bleak white walls of his Shinra-owned residence. He couldn't even remember when she gave it to him but the flower showed no signs of wilting. It was the vibrancy in his grey room, just as Aerith herself was the vitality in his otherwise gloomy world.

He never told her about the nightmares. Not because he wanted to appear manly or macho to impress his girl, but because Zack knew that he was her hero, her knight in shining armour, and he wanted to remain that way forever. He needed to be tough enough to take on the world.

Aerith knew that he had fears, but she didn't know the nature of those fears. He wouldn't be surprised to see her belief in him to falter if she ever found out that her noble saviour was afraid of himself. So instead of confiding his uncertainties and doubts, Zack drew his strength and courage from her. She became his reason to keep going.

He was her hero and would always be. Even if it meant conquering himself.

And with that in mind, just like on all other disturbed nights, Zack would fall into a peaceful sleep, to a place where a girl with brilliant green eyes and a warm smile would be waiting for him, surrounded by the most wonderful flowers that the world had ever seen.


	4. April

**Author's Note: **Thank you so much to all of my reviewers and people who have favorites this story or put it on alert. If I wasn't so broke, I would buy you all some cookies. You'll have to settle for virtual cookies for now. (hint: I would love to get even more feedback! :D)

I am very very sorry about my absence as of late. It is obviously not by choice that I put school ahead of my recreational writing. :P I wish. But I did have a string of exams, assignments, projects, and a hella lot of studying. I tried my very best to get this one up by Sunday but it just didn't work out that way. So right now, I am awake in the middle of the night because I just have to get this done today. I edited this story rather quickly and in the past few days that I put it together, my brain was much fuzzier than usual. So there may be mistakes and weird parts and whatever else my dull brain likes to skip over. And with that I ask that you notify me of anything odd that you notice and I shall be forever thankful. (:

Oh, and of course the theme of April had to be rain. I adore rain and every aspect of this but I didn't really see how I could make this story work with a billion paragraphs on describing how awesome rain is. So I didn't but I stuck it in anyway. xD Yeah, just like I expected, these one-shots are becoming based on the theme or common subject of their associated month. Any guesses what May is going to be about?

* * *

_April_

It began as the surprise of a lifetime.

All he really wanted to do was make his girl happy, to make her face light up as it always did when she smiled.

He didn't deserve this.

Zack frowned as yet another raindrop slipped off his wet sagging black spikes. Somewhere up there, he reasoned, some powerful and mighty being was probably laughing at him and his drooping hair. The too-good-to-be-true plan was obviously bound to eventually go wrong. He just didn't realize it at the time.

Meanwhile, Aerith really seemed to be enjoying herself. She stood in the pouring rain, already soaked to the bone, laughing as more and more raindrops hit her delicate face. He had never seen her in such joy over the light sprinkles that she sometimes fell through the Church roof and he wondered what exactly about this gloomy rainfall could make a girl smile so hard.

He just didn't get it.

The whole day promised to be wonderful. The weather was nice and the city was as bright as it ever got and he happened to have a day off. Aerith was so happy when he told her that he was going to take her to Midgar that day, so delighted at the idea of it, that they left immediately. And so, with a pretty girl on his arm and a smile on his face, Zack wondered just how his day could get any better.

Perhaps he let his confidence get to his head because the day simply couldn't get better. So it didn't.

The ascent to the city was smooth and the look on Aerith's face as she saw Midgar for the very first time filled Zack with even more joy and more warmth and more certainty. She was in absolute awe of everything, from the flashing lights, to the structure of the city, to the people rushing by. They stood side by side for a while, Aerith in absolute amazement and Zack, the happiest he could ever remember himself being, not daring to venture beyond their first step together above the Slums. It reminded Zack of his own first day in the city, back when he was nothing more than a country boy from a small town with a backwater name....

The ever darkening skies should have been an omen for bad things to come. But back then, Zack couldn't care less. Even as it started to drizzle, he was in high spirits. Hand in hand, Zack and Aerith ran through the streets, past the faceless people, laughing as raindrops landed sloppily on their heads.

The drizzle didn't last for long.

It soon turned into a downpour, blurring their surrounding. That may have been the reason that one wrong turn led to another and yet another wrong road. And thanks to his man ego, Zack didn't admit to being lost until the two of them were nearly mugged in a dark alley.

Nearly.

Pulling a frightened Aerith behind him, Zack's eyes turned hard and he warned her not to look as he disarmed and disabled the attackers before cursing their bad luck.

By then it was almost pitch black and the rain grew even heavier than before. Aerith was slightly shivering, whether from the cold rain or the previous encounter he did not know. Hesitantly put a warm arm around her shoulders and was slightly surprised to feel her trying to burrow further into him. He expected to feel her fear but instead, all she ever gave him was unconditional trust.

It was by the sheerest luck that they stumbled upon the train station. Zack silently thanked his lucky stars, the ones that remained eternally hidden by Midgar's murky skies. Sure, the train station didn't have a roof, but Zack now at least had a chance to find his way back.

With somewhat of a fallen spirit, Zack looked over at Aerith to apologize for his failure but was greeted with a huge youthful grin. It only added to his confusion.

They were both dripping wet and while he was as close as he would ever get to being depressed, she seemed to be having the adventure of her life.

Aerith looked back at him questioningly, not understanding why he was upset. Her light brown hair was plastered randomly to her delicate face and he still thought that she looked like an angel, albeit one that had accidentally fallen into a lake. Zack smiled slightly at the thought and that made her smile as well, the contagious smiles quickly turning into mad laughter that rang from every surrounding corner. Zack felt like crying.

When the train finally arrived, Zack already knew that it was much later than he had promised to return Aerith home. He let a small sigh escape him. He had wanted so much yet he had failed at achieving any of it. He had gotten himself lost in the city he boasted to know most about and Elmyra would most likely skin him alive when (and if) they managed to find their way back down to Sector 5 Slums. His entire fate was now in the hands of the wretched train.

The said train suddenly buckled and screeched to a sudden stop. Zack caught Aerith around the waist before she was thrown across the empty cabin. Without a word, he set her down and walked over to a window, purposely avoiding her wide watchful eyes.

A glimpse of brilliant blue momentarily reflected back at him from the glass surface before he was able to look beyond the inside of the train cabin. The roads still looked wet, the lights were nothing more than blurs, and the streets were barely recognizable, but at least Zack could tell that they had stopped on a bridge hovering above a section of the city. Maybe the view would have been nice if it wasn't the city of Midgar he was looking at. Heck, Zack thought, the view would probably look nice if it wasn't pouring outside and you could tell the difference between buildings, people, and lampposts.

"Midgar Transit is sorry for the inconvenience," a bored buzz sounded form the intercoms, spooking Aerith further and even making Zack flinch ever so slightly, "This train is temporary out of service due to mechanical failure. Meanwhile, we will ask all passengers to remain within their cabins as the doors cannot be open right now due to fear of electrical and fire hazards. Thank you."

Zack didn't know if it was shock or annoyance or anger that caused his entire being to go numb. At the announcement, he did nothing but stare blankly at the blurred lights outside the wet window, unable to get his mind to start working again. The pestering sound of what sounded a lot like elevator music burst through the speakers. Zack had never hated it more. He wondered if there were even any other passengers on the train or if the train driver just felt like annoying him out of his mind on purpose. Just then, a gentle voice interrupted his moment of pure loathing.

"Are we stuck like this?" The seemingly simple question broke him. He didn't want to admit his failure, didn't want to hear the damned words of defeat come out of his mouth. But his silence was no denial of the sad fact that nothing just happened to work out.

Zack didn't even really understand why this bothered him so much. He had made plenty of foolish mistakes, had thousands of "bad days," and had put himself in dumb situations numerous times before. But somehow, this time was different. This time he wanted to make it the best night not only for Aerith, but also for himself. He wanted to take her to the fanciest restaurant in Midgar and then to a small café that made the best hot chocolate in the world. He planned to show her the rare glimpse of beauty of the city life and the stars outside of the city's walls. He had planned to take her dancing…

With a fluid motion, Zack spun around, outstretching his arm and bowing towards Aeirth at the same time. "May I have this dance?"

He couldn't see her expression but the bewilderment didn't hide well enough in her voice: "Now? Right here? To this?"

Zack nodded wordlessly, a slow smile creeping up his features, and pulled her from her seating position. Aerith stood awkwardly as Zack placed her hands on his upper arms where she could reach, and wrapped his own arms around her tiny waist. Neither with much experience in dancing, the two began swaying clumsily from side to side.

The music was definitely not made for dancing but the repetitive rhythm coming from the speakers had a hypnotizing effect. Before long, Zack was twirling Aerith all around the train cabin, almost effortlessly avoiding the poles and benches that stood in their way, all to a beat of his own. She, however, had already given up trying to keep up to his crazy movements and let herself be led while pressing an ear to his chest and listening to the steady rhythm of his heart, much like the rain softly pounding on the outer walls of the train.

And right at that moment, he was almost completely human and she was almost completely normal; just a girl named Aerith with a boyfriend named Zack, dancing their clumsy first dance together. She smiled and relaxed against him.

It was no night under the open sky but this was a thousand times better.

***

The faint jolt of was enough to wake up the sense-enhanced Zack. His tired eyes opened slowly to see that the rain had finally stopped and the now focused view outside was beginning to change. The thought of freedom was enough to get the rest of his body awake quickly. It was difficult to tell how much time had passed since Midgar was dark during the day and the night but Zack didn't care anymore. They were finally getting out.

Excited, he gently shook the slumbering Aerith in his lap. "Aerith? The train's moving again." He whispered softly as his swept a stray bang behind her ear.

Aerith stirred ever so slightly, and barely opened her eyes. And with one quick look around she simply shook her head against him and settled herself more comfortably in.

Smiling, Zack wrapped his arms around her tighter and closed his eyes once more.


	5. May

**Author's Note:** No, I did not disappear. I was simply consumed by the horrible invention called school and life. I mean, honestly, who need those things? xD

I will not lie, I finished writing this one over a week ago and it was just there, calling for me to edit it. And every time I read it, something was always missing and I couldn't exactly figure out what. I tried playing up my descriptive words here and I am not sure how well that worked out but hey, this whole project of mine is for self-learning so anything goes. Yes, _chibipinkbunny_, I tried to stick in some pretty analogies here but my mind doesn't seem to like to spew out pretty things. It prefers choppy sentences and wonderful thoughts that are impossible to put into words. Yeah, that's the way my mind rolls.

Hopefully, with the Christmas break coming up, I am going to speed up _Hourglass_. I have the idea for June ready (you don't know how long it takes me to come up with a legitimate plot...) so all I need is time. I am hoping to finish this no later than February (and that should be the extreme). I can't wait to see how that goal's going to work out…

_

* * *

_

May

"They didn't bloom, Zack."

The statement finally came out as somewhat of a choked sob after moments of meaningless chatter and endless prodding. Zack could hear quiet shaking breaths on the other side of the line, but all the way in Wutai he couldn't think of anything he could do to help. Honestly, he doubted that he could've done much with flowers even if he was back in Midgar with Aerith, but then at least, he could have put his arms around her and held her tight until the tears dried up. Now however, on the other side of the world, stuck under a makeshift tent in a tropical rainstorm that seemed keen on drowning the Planet, Zack felt helpless and useless. He hated being helpless and useless. And the worst part of it all was that he wasn't even exactly sure of what to say.

"Aerith," he half-shouted into the phone to be heard over the racket that the rain was making, "Uh… it's okay…"

"No Zack, it's not." The words weren't rude of forceful, but so very final in their own way, as if there was nothing in the world he could ever do about it. And it seemed that Aerith was extremely disappointed with that unfortunate fact.

"I'll talk to you later, okay? Bye." And just like that she hung up. Zack remained speechless with the phone still up by his ear, the sound of rushing water serving as his only distraction. That was the first ever time that she had hung up on him. It felt like a slap. Zack had never been slapped before.

What did she expect him to do? He was on duty in Wutai, miles and miles away, and given any opportunity, he would walk any distance back to Midgar just to be with her. But he doubted that his superiors would let him leave to "help plant flowers," no matter how pointless his current mission was (whatever that happened to be because he was beginning to doubt that there was one to begin with).

And now, Zack wasn't sure if it was safe to go back with Aerith in her fire-breathing dragon form. It was strange how she didn't yell at him or get mad, yet her flat monotone voice on the other line followed by a painful click was enough evidence to know that he was in trouble for something he wasn't really aware of.

Girls.

But he knew he should do something, some miraculous feat that would make Aerith happy again because simply the sound of her tears through the phone sent a sharp pang through his heart. Zack hadn't decided what was worse: depressed Aerith or extremely dissatisfied Aerith. All he knew was that he didn't want to hear either of them ever again.

Finally putting the cell phone into his pocket, Zack focused once more on his surrounding. Despite the downpour, Wutai was beautiful in so many ways: every corner was full of life, the kind that made the few remaining colours in Midgar seem permanently gray. But everything in the Wutai seemed to have a colour, from the rich native speech, to the multihued dresses, to the lovely tropical plants the sprouted from the most unimaginable places. Even the smells seemed to have colours associated with them, a visible aroma that flowed from every corner.

And all the meanwhile Aerith was stuck in a dead city, the single spark of radiance in the world that had long ago bled all of its colours into some godforsaken ditch. She would've loved it here, Zack thought sadly.

"A flower for your thoughts?" A girl shoved a flower under Zack's nose, distracting him from his reverie. Zack could tell from the dark shade of her two long braids that were stuck to her shoulders, her delicate features, and her peculiar accent that she was Wuitanese. The girl was drenched to the bone but the smile on her face seemed to radiate through even the pouring rain. Zack noticed a flower basket on her arm.

"Um…I am not sure that a flower will help me - "

"Hmm, let me see…" she studied his face, "Girl problems? A flower will certainly help." The girl nodded wisely and put the flower in his hand, "Take it. A gift from me, okay?"

And before Zack could even reply, she was gone, hidden by the mist, with nothing more than a wink for a goodbye.

For a while, Zack stared, dumb folded, at the place she had vanished from. Then he turned his focus to the flower in his hand. It was wet and its petals were shriveled up and folded, a victim of water torture. And yet some unexplained ghost of beauty hung around the plant, like a whisper of something long ago forgotten.

Past the folded petals and a shrunken form though, the flower was striking. It was a bright red at first glance but if turned the right way, it became every possible shade of the rainbow. The delicate petals seemed to be made up of coloured glass and Zack could almost see through them. The way the flower was laid out on his gloved hand looked like a butterfly prepared for flight. It was the hope of tomorrow in the beauty of today.

The solution was so simple that he didn't understand how he had not thought of it before; he had to get some of these flowers to Aerith's church.

Pulling out his cell phone once again, Zack dialed a number that happened to be on speed dial for all the wrong reasons.

"Reno," he spoke as the phone was picked up after a couple of rings, "I need a favour."

* * *

Aerith Gainsborough believed in miracles. She believed that miracles took time and patience.

She gave the church three days.

By the fourth day of her "boycott," Aerith Gainsborough could be seen sprinting down the streets of the Slums at sunrise.

Pausing for a breath only before the great entrance doors, Aerith allowed her fears to come anew. What if the flowers still weren't there? What if the only colours she had ever known were gone forever? Would she become like the rest of the world, unable to hear the soft-spoken words of the Planet? She took a wavering step inside.

Aerith's eyes widened. The holy white structure seemed to have exploded to with flowers. Life was practically spurting off the walls, originating from the bright plants that seemed to cover every inch of the plain white marble. Vines curled around the pillars, flowers grew from under the pews, and her usual patch in the main part of the church was full of flowers more beautiful than she ever thought possible. And Reno the Turk was planting them. If it wasn't a miracle then Aerith wasn't sure what was.

"Reno," she said carefully, afraid of shattering this strange but rather pleasant dream. He turned around swiftly with big eyes and Aerith thought she heard him swear under his breath. He faked casualty by standing up and unsuccessfully brushing some dirt off his disheveled signature Turk suit. He cleared his throat.

"Don't tell anyone, okay, yo?" he said, finally meeting Aerith's eyes after an awkward silence, "I owed Fair a favour. They are all the way from Wuitai." He added with a sweeping gesture of his hand. Her nod and tiny smirk served as the unspoken promise of silence. He nodded briefly and bent down to retrieve a bouquet of flowers she hadn't noticed before lying at his feet. He thrust it into Aerith's arms before making his way to the doors.

Aerith felt as though she had a handful of stars in her arms. They flowers were so vivid and brilliant and their whispers were different and so refreshing; they called to her like no other plants did before. It felt like she had finally marked her dead universe with a stain of life. It felt wonderful.

"He spoils you, you know." Reno watched from the entrance, leaning on a wall, smiling as he shook his head. He spun around and walked out of the Church with a final yell, "If anyone asks, I wasn't here, yo!" and slowly disappeared into the bleak world of muted shadows that Aerith lived in no more.

She didn't even hear him.

Instead, she flipped open a small paper card that was attached to the soft velvet ribbon of the bouquet, smiling. Inside was a scribbled misshapen heart. With an even bigger smile that before Aerith looked up and silently gave her thanks for the hole in the roof, the person who had fallen through it, and the gift of life that came along with him.


	6. June

**Author's Note:** I refuse to sound like a broken record and apologize once again for being late, and not writing, and etc., etc., etc. So instead, I shall just get back to the point.

When I was little, I used to fantasize about my wedding and my future house and my future, not yet existent kids. But as I entered my awkward teenage phase for the very first time, I kept thinking about how stupid those dreams were and how awkward it would be to discuss those things with anyway, much less with a boyfriend. Now that I think about it, I would rather have a guy with whom I could be totally comfortable joking about things like that than a guy who is totally disturbed with me for it. So because I don't get a guy like that, I decided that Aerith should. (:

Oh, and if you are wondering how this is related to June…DANDELIONS! I personally wish I could burn each and every single one of those damn weeds but that's just me. I usually begin to notice the devils around June so when I thought about them BAM! This idea was born.

* * *

_June_

It happened to be the only day ever recorded that serenity (or a state close to it) was to be found in the Slums.

A soft breeze blew from the west, just barely ruffling Zack Fair's carefully arranged spikes. He closed his eyes and leaned back to enjoy the cool wind current. In his arms, Aerith shifted slightly.

The flower girl was busy braiding a bunch of yellow dandelions into a golden circlet. Naturally, they were the only plant life to be found in the odd patches of sunlight in the Slums. Aerith had loved their bright colours at first glance and Zack didn't have the heart to tell her that outside of Midgar, the wretched plants were considered to be weeds.

It definitely wasn't a right day for bursting bubbles.

Aerith twisted to face Zack and placed the now finished crown of flowers on his head, where it stood awkwardly atop his black spiked. He cracked an eye open. She laughed, and turned around, leaning right back into his arms.

The hill was an odd landmark in the neighbourhood. It easily stood out as the only one of its kind amidst dark gloomy streets and was therefore known to all native residents of Sector 5. When Aerith had dragged Zack to it earlier that day, he thought that under other circumstances, it would be a perfect spot for an oak tree. But instead, at the top of the hill stood a strangely placed crooked lamppost with a lamp that like many other things in the Slums, had long ago seen the last of its days.

Zack thought that it would be awkward to sit on the strangely out of place grass covered hilltop and lean against a mutated lamppost. But in reality, if he ignored the uncomfortable squishy moistness of the grass and if he the imagined that the cold, solid feel of the post was rather a nice strong tree trunk, it proved out to be quite comfortable. And plus, he didn't really care much for his environment; all he wanted was a nice long nap.

"Zack?" Aerith asked just as he was beginning to fall asleep, "Do you ever think about the future?"

Zack grudgingly snapped out of his almost dreamlike trance. Future? Didn't everyone think about his future? He had always thought about the tomorrows to shape his goal for the todays. He had always imagined tomorrow it to be much better than it ever really turned out to be but it was the way he got through the present.

"Yes."

"Really? Well," she asked once more, "Do you think about us?"

"Elaborate please."

He had liked the sound of the world "elaborate." It was also probably the most intelligent thing that his tired mind could come up with at the time. To be truthful, he wasn't even totally aware of the conversation that was taking place but at least by saying things related to the topic, he would appear to.

Aerith closed her eyes and blew on a different dandelion, one that had already changed its sunshine yellow petals, scattering puffs of white everywhere. Zack began to think that she either hadn't heard him or had decided to ignore him and began to drift off again when she finally replied.

"I mean us. The next time we see each other, what our wedding will be like, what we are going to name our kids. The normal stuff." It all came in a rush and Zack took a few second for his brain to process what he was hearing.

Wedding? Kids? _Normal stuff_? Zack remained rather speechless for a bit. But then again, Aerith Gainsborough was perhaps the most outspoken, bold girl that he had ever met. There were few things that she was shy of expressing. It was part of her charm.

He almost didn't notice her talking again.

"At out wedding, I want a flower theme, with green and gold as our main colours. We are going to have lilies in glasses as our centerpieces, and little salt and pepper shakers that look like two hugging people as gifts for the guests, right?"

"And a chocolate fountain…" despite the arguments going on in his mind that could not be easily deciphered and the weak but still awkward feeling in his stomach, it was all that Zack managed to say as a reply.

Aerith turned to face him and grinned. "Perfect." She had that mischievous sparkle in her eyes, the one that told Zack that she was kidding. Upon seeing the look, Zack relaxed. He wouldn't actually have to wear a green and gold tie to their wedding just yet.

The flower girl twirled the stem of the now bald dandelion in her hands, "So, what do you think our kids' names should be?"

"How many kids are we talking about?" he asked.

"I am thinking three; two boys and a girl."

"Hmm. Well one of the boys has to be Zack Jr.," he said and paused for a bit, ready for a skeptical response from Aerith but upon hearing none, he continued, "And the other can be…Sephiroth?"

Aerith wrinkled her nose. "No. That name is just silly. Who would name their kid Sephiroth, anyway?"

Somebody sure did.

"What about Genesis then? Or Angeal?"

"I like Angeal." Aerith decided, "It reminds me of angels. And the girl?"

"Aerith Jr.?"

She giggled at that. "Zack, you can't go around naming all the children after their parents. Everyone would have the same names. Plus, that one sounds funny. How about…Petunia?"

Zack made a face.

"Lily? Daisy? June?"

More faces.

Finally, Aerith gave in. "Fine, Aerith Jr." she said with a sigh and a dramatic roll of eyes, "But that's only temporary. What about the house then?"

"It's got to be big. I am thinking four stories, seven bedrooms, and five bathrooms at the least. Oh and we have to have a huge parlour and a swimming pool…" Zack replied confidently. A big house was something he had always dreamed about; he even had all the details figured out down to the last nail.

"We can have anything you want as long as we have a big garden and live by the sea. I've always wanted to look at the ocean…"

"Even a fluorescent orange room?" Zack asked eagerly. Aerith shot him a look.

"A small storage closet, maybe. Good enough for you?" Aerith asked. Zack nodded excitedly, lost in daydreams of bright orange walls. Aerith elbowed him lightly to bring him back to the world.

"I want to be a florist." She suddenly said in a serious voice, "One of the best in the world. I want to have flowers that bring joy to people. And I don't want money. I want to spread happiness." She paused, "Do you think it's silly?"

Zack didn't even need time to think about his answer. "You won't be one of the best; you'll be the best. Have you seen how happy you are making people just with the flowers you are selling now? Imagine what you could do with flowers that grew under actual sunlight!"

"Really?" she asked with new hope in her sparkling green eyes.

"Really." He said smiling. It made her beam even harder.

"You know, I think that you are going to be the best SOLDIER in the world, Zack. Better than Sephiroth himself." She said quietly after a while.

"Really?" Zack found that he couldn't keep the genuine surprise out of his voice.

"Really." She said and smiled, "You have what so many other fighters don't; you have a heart, Zack. And because of that, you'll have a legacy. You'll be remembered as the hero because you were loved. Just doing great things isn't enough to have an ever-lasting fan club."

And so the next few moments were spend in peace, each one of the two lost in their thoughts and dreams.

Happiness worked well with silence.

A bright red convertible drove out of a nearby corner, disturbing the hush with the noise of a silent engine. It wasn't uncommon for rich people to drive in the Slums to meet with the self-proclaimed Sector leaders. But mainly, it was a great opportunity to show off their wealth. Aerith and Zack both watched the vehicle travel across the road.

But as they came into view, the driver and passenger of the car surprised them; they were grinning toothless smiles and their skin was saggy and wrinkly. The woman in the passenger seat was wearing huge sunglasses, a hot pink bandana, and bold red lipstick; she looked a lot like a toad. The driver was a man dressed in a black designer suit with numerous thick gold chains around his neck and gold gleaming out of almost every corner of his mouth; he looked like he was lost in-between generations. Something incredibly funny must have happened at the last block because their laughter could be heard for miles.

It seemed that the pension plan for retired Shinra executives was really paying off.

As the convertible drove out of sight, Aerith rose up, dusted off her dress and offered a hand to Zack. He followed suit.

"Okay, no matter what," she said, shaking her head at the disappearing old couple, "Promise me that when we grow old together, we are never going to become like that."

"You want us to grow old together?" he asked happily.

"Of course, silly." She replied, linking her arm through his, "Forever's way longer than that."

Forever.

He liked the sound of that.

* * *

But months later, as Zack Fair lay in a pool of his own blood beneath black skies, he couldn't help but think that forever just wasn't as long as it used to be.


	7. July

**Author's Note:** Since I live in inland Canada, our weather varies greatly with the season so winters are usually really cold and the summers are usually pretty hot. July, in fact, is very often the hottest month of the year with temperatures at about 20-25 degrees Celsius daily (I apologize to my American readers but I don't understand Fahrenheit one bit so I will not embarrass myself by trying to convert the temperatures). That ended up being my inspiration here.

By the way, I personally think that this may just be the most ridiculous and perhaps the most pointless thing that I have ever written. But I wanted to try something different and, well… this is it. I am pretty sure that at the end of the day, I am the crazy one here because I am seeing cats out the corners of my eyes and grinning faces instead of plates. Exams do that to me.

* * *

_July_

It was hot.

Zack scoped the scene around him, absentmindedly wiping sweat off his brow. Where was he again?

Oh, right. The desert.

The damned, never-ending desert.

Orange dunes of sand covered the land all around him, with the exception of the sickening bright blue above. The blue didn't seem to end either. It was just so deep and blue, without a speck of white in sight. And not to mention that everything was quiet, far too quiet for any normal mind to function. The silence seemed to be suffocating; his brain was certainly beginning to feel a lack of oxygen.

It was horrible.

And it was hot.

Zack couldn't even remember how in the world he had gotten lost in the desert in the first place because trying to remember took mental power that the was not in possession of. Simply putting two thoughts together hurt but he couldn't stop fantasizing about water, that beautiful precious liquid. Unfortunately, dreaming about it did not seem to make it appear so Zack trudged on.

Were his legs even moving? He hadn't noticed that before. He seemed to be walking toward nothing because the sand never ended and trying to outrun it was pointless but he didn't stop. Walking gave him something to do.

Wait. Wasn't he just using up all of his energy? Why walk on a nearly empty stomach, completely mind-numb, only to collapse somewhere even deeper in the desert? Shouldn't he just stop, sit down, and let the wind blow sand into his face until someone found him?

Zack stopped and looked up into the sky. He imagined himself as an odd dark fleck amidst the blue and gold. But at least the gold was solid; the blue was too vast and magnificent, too easy to get lost in, and too great and terrifying at the same time.

Didn't he once know someone who was afraid of the sky too…?

Suddenly, a hill, covered in nothing else but sand, grinned at Zack. His jaw dropped.

Zack blinked.

The hill smirked.

And then, without a warning, the SOLDIER pulled out his sword and began slashing viciously at the hill. Sand fell upon sand. Zack's eyes were watering and his muscles were hurting and all of a sudden he just fell. Down on his knees, the giant sword on the ground next to him, and his head in his hands. Madness got an easy victory.

Zack realized how dangerous he really was. The concept of sanity was being lost far too quickly: he was unimaginably hungry and thirsty, he wasn't able to think straight, and he was hallucinating. His actions were far beyond his own control. Not to mention that he had a giant weapon and the skills to wield it.

Hell _was_ always said to be an extremely hot place.

Slowly and carefully, after numerous deep breaths and attempts to recollect his sense of self, Zack opened his eyes. The sun was still at the highest point in the sky, right above him, and the ground was still covered in sand.

He almost lost it then.

But instead of only sand, there was something else. A small white flower, its petals sprinkled with dirt, sat comfortably in the side of a dune. He stared at the flower for a bit, almost afraid that it would start smiling at him too. Cautiously, he reached out a gloved finger and touched a single petal, half-expecting the flower to curl up and disappear at first sign of physical contact.

But instead, his life came rushing back.

Not in a gentle memory flow but in quick angry flashes that knocked him down. Love, hope, joy, tears, strength, courage, honour, laughter, pain, loss, hurt, death. Getting separated from his comrades in the middle of a sandstorm. It all came back in a blur. Zack clutched at his head, waiting for the memories to stop, for everything to finally settle down. And then the last image appeared in his mind. A girl with a smile and bright green eyes.

Waiting.

Hoping.

_An angel?_

A flower.

Aerith…

His reason. His will to keep going.

Picking up the sword with one hand and the white flower with the other, Zack stood up with a new kind of readiness to face whatever the middle of nowhere had left and turned around.

And almost bonked heads with a fat mass of yellow feathers.

The silly creatures wore what could best be described as a lopsided grin; its tongue was sticking out of the side of its mouth. Zack couldn't help himself and blinked.

It warked.

"A chocobo!" he exclaimed happily out loud, actually hearing himself speak for the first time in many, many hours. Had it not been such an open area, his voice would have echoed a million times over. Laughing simply because it was the most appropriate thing to do, Zack ruffled the beast's head affectionately. The feelings seemed to be mutual as the chocobo began to chew on Zack's hair.

But at that point, nothing mattered because the chocobo meant freedom and freedom meant going back to flowers, angels, and everything else in-between. Still laughing, Zack climbed onto the creature's back and rode safely to his freedom.

Upon reaching a nearby town and finding his lost comrades, Zack was bombarded with questions. Was he hungry? Was he thirsty? Did he feel sick? How did he survive three days (three whole days!) in the desert? Nobody had ever done that before. Did he want a shower? A nice comfy bed?

Zack waved their concerns away with an easy smile, careful to shield the delicate flower still cupped in his hand.

"A phone. What I need is a phone." He said. About a million PDAs were shoved into his range of view. Picking the closest and most convenient one, Zack gave a nod of appreciation and walked over to a nearby corner. He looked first at the plant in his hand, then back at the crowd of anxious awaiting eyes, grinning.

"First, I think I'm going to call my girlfriend."


	8. August

**Author's Note:** This may just be the shortest one yet, at 907 words, but perhaps the most meaningful (to me at least). Not much fluff here, unless you really squint.

Now, none of this reflects my religious or spiritual beliefs in any way but it is based on a string of thoughts and pondering that I was doing one day. August makes me think of lazy red sunsets but it's also the ending of those wonderful carefree days. And during those days, I often just stop and think about everything. Endings, beginnings, memories, moments, feelings. But most importantly closure. Because the way I see it, all things, no matter how great or terrible, eventually come to an end. So some days, we just need to slow down and really reflect on life before we forget.

Ain't I poetic? (:

* * *

_August_

He had taken her to see fireworks once.

They beautiful, so bright and flashy and colourful. They would shoot up into the sky and spreading out their wings at the very peak of their flight. She oohed and ahhed with the rest of the crowd at each marvellous explosion, but as soon as Aerith looked into Zack's eyes, her stomach began doing a fireworks show all of its own.

It was at that moment, on that day, during that summer that Aerith had realized that she was in love.

Aerith Gainsborough wasn't foolish or blind; she knew that she wasn't the only one who was head over heels for Zack. No girl was immune to his charms and no girl would be dumb enough to miss out an opportunity with him. But she did hope that she was the only one who actually had that opportunity.

Aerith knew that at least from her side, it was true love because it felt silly and crazy and scary and wonderful all at the same time. But more than anything, that realization seemed so simple because Zack could not be described as anything else but "the one." He understood her like no one else did and when he didn't, he made an effort to. He was also charming, funny, sweet, brave, heroic, and kind, the perfect Prince Charming. And at the end of the day, that was what every girl had ever secretly dreamed of.

But the fireworks were simple too. Despite their beauty, Aerith had the pattern memorized within minutes: A flare shoots up. Boom, boom, boom. Scatters of a colour disperse into the pitch black sky leavening nothing but traces of smoke behind. Repeat with different colours and patterns.

As the last hints of the gold and red and blue and green disappeared, Aerith noticed a subtle touch of mockery with their vanishing. Just like every beautiful wonderful thing, the fireworks would eventually fade into nothingness, leaving behind only lingering memories. Memories that with time would become worn and frayed and broken. Because all memories, no matter how great, eventually lost their true stories with the years, becoming illegitimate.

Illegitimate but not meaningless.

Aerith wasn't sure if she was setting herself for the biggest heartbreak. She knew that she was jumping in headfirst without looking and she knew that the destination may be far from wonderful but it was the experience that mattered.

The experience and the faith.

The faith into something invisible and indescribable and perhaps unrequited. The faith in a man who could so easily break her far beyond repair.

And the hope that he wouldn't.

But what was hope anyway?

Aerith didn't know if she fully understood the concept. She often inhabited a Church, a building that was likely a glorious building of worship for someone somewhere sometime ago. Now however, it served as Aerith's greenhouse.

The flower girl tried praying once. But not a moment had passed before she began to wonder just who she was praying to. Who was there to worship? A greater almighty being? Unlikely. If someone out there cared then they wouldn't let people suffer the way they did. They wouldn't allow guaranteed survival to the lucky few and everyday hell to everybody else.

No, the way Aerith saw it, there was just the Planet which consisted of voices, memories, and lingering souls of those who once walked the very same ground she now stood on. The souls of people who probably, sometime ago, built the Church, brick by brick, and worshiped and prayed and hoped inside of it.

And then they died.

What sort of power could the spirits of the dead even have? They, who were helplessly condemned to the mysterious green waves, useless at even preventing themselves from harm at the hands of Shinra. And even if they were worth praying to, Aerith could already speak to them without the need for formalities, understand the tongue that so many others have learned to shut out.

So instead, that day Aerith prayed to the people. She prayed so they would become better, braver, and brighter. She prayed that her hope for the world would spread and that others, too, would put faith in each other and dream big and improve.

But mostly, she prayed to the people for a hero. She prayed that someday, someone would stand out among the rest. He didn't have to be perfect or impossibly noble. He didn't have to turn the world upside down. He just had to make that step that everyone was either too scared or unwilling to take.

The voices and the whispers couldn't even defend themselves; they weren't going to change the Planet in anyway on their own. But somehow, someone out there could.

Because with a single step, great things could happen.

It was the second last time that Aerith had ever truly prayed with the same single wish and hope. And for as long as her heart beat, until her very last breath and beyond, Aerith believed that Zack was that hero. The hero who would change the direction of humanity and take a step towards the new, towards the unknown, towards the great.

One day, her prayers were heard. One day, Zack managed to take that step.

It was a small step, largely unseen by so many. But still, it was noticed.

Because years later, another hero, rather unwillingly, began to walk a path out of that single step.


	9. September

**Author's Note:** Yeah, almost two months and no good excuse. Sorry. I roll like that.

This is the last quarter of _Hourglass_ and the rest of the stories are going to be short and more… _drabble-_esque, if you will. But just so you are aware, I have pre-planned that a long time ago so please don't feel as though I am rushing anything or just trying too hard to finish.

To me, Septembers have always been a little bit sad. Not exactly depressing, but sad in the sense that they symbolize the beginning of something new, whether good or bad, and new things always scare me. It is the end of bliss and the beginning of unknown that you have vague expectations for. So I thought that Zack's last goodbye before the Nibelhiem mission may just be the perfect scenario to use here. This is actually the shortest piece yet, at less than 900 words. It's…kind of different from the other "months" but I am hoping that it is so in a good way.

Your comments and feedback are greatly appreciated and thank you so much to everyone who gives me a bit of their time to write something. Another huge thank you goes out to all of those who waited for this and haven't decided to give up on me yet. (:

* * *

_September_

There was something unmistakably final about that kiss.

The both felt it: Aerith as a numbing feeling, a loss of vivacity that became greater with every step he took away from her, and Zack as pain that he taught himself so long ago to ignore.

Unfortunately, denying an anguish didn't make it go away.

Even the most casual touches turned to lingering ones. While the responsible part of him felt afraid for her safety, the selfish part, for the first time in so long, was afraid for his own. Never again would he feel her warmth and caresses if he was dead. And she feared for him as much as she feared for her sanity; without him, time stopped.

And flowers didn't bloom without time.

Aerith so desperately didn't want to let go for it would mean loosing sight of her one precious attachment that she felt would tear her world to shreds so suddenly if lost. With every past goodbye and return, she trusted him to come back a bit more than the last time. By then, she almost stopped doubting him at all. But there was always still a sickening feeling in her heart about the thought of him leaving that gladly mocked her trust and faith and threatened to destroy every last bit of it.

Zack said that he would come back from the mission. He said that it was his last one. He said that he was finally ready and had made up his mind: upon his return he would quit his job and whisk her out of Midgar, far, far away to the land of lush green grass and flowing rivers and mountains whose tops reached to the clouds themselves and beyond.

He promised.

He always kept his promises.

But this time, she didn't really believe him.

A gust of wind seemed to blow from an uncertain direction. Aerith didn't really know (or much care) if she was imagining it but she slightly shivered nonetheless. The world felt a fraction colder already and Zack wasn't even gone yet.

So she just stood before him with a frozen broken smile, unmoving, in her simple white dress, with the same faded pink ribbon still in her braid. And it was just so usual (except the fake smile which he could, perhaps, with enough persistence, force himself to ignore), that for a second, he could bring himself to take a few steps away from her and not feel the suffering, or the agony, or anything else. For a moment, he could make up his mind to leave her standing there and waiting.

But he still hesitated at the entrance.

"I'll be back, you know that, right?" he said with a strained attempt at a natural smile. On any other day the statement would be pointless reassurance; that day it just didn't seem like enough.

She nodded and tried to force her features into a mask they would not form (she trusted him, always trusted him) and waved. Another sudden cold gust blew from a different direction, this time more real than not, unnoticeable to both. And this time, she didn't even shiver.

The numbness wouldn't let her.

Hopefully he didn't notice the single tear that rolled down her cheek. But she didn't really dare believe it for more than a moment; he had eyesight far too enhanced to let such details slide.

Maybe one teardrop simply wasn't enough for him to stop.

He walked out.

Seconds…Minutes…Hours…Days…

Moments passed.

Or something.

Subconsciously, Aerith clasped her hands together. For some it was a gesture of prayer; for her it was a reassurance of her existence.

Zack was gone.

But he promised to come back.

That promise was now some much more: a hope, a prayer, and a lifeline. Aerith knew from past experiences that putting her entire faith onto a single lifeline always hurt the most but this time would be different. This time she wouldn't listen to common sense or gut feelings. This time she would test out the durability of that lifeline and wait.

Wait for seconds. Wait for minutes. Wait for hours. Wait for days.

And then some more.

She would wait until he came back and met her, ready and waiting, and swept her out of Midgar, far, far away to the land of lush green grass and flowing rivers and mountains whose tops reached to the clouds themselves and beyond where they would happily live forever and ever in laughter and strife.

The end, thank you very much.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a white feather swirling down from the sky, engaging in a mad but graceful dance as it fell. She looked up for the source of the feather and found none; she found that wasn't really expecting to, anyway.

Soundlessly, the feather landed on the ancient floorboard and stilled. Yet she kept watching it, waiting for an encore, a revival, or any sign of rebirth.

It remained motionless.

Feathers were funny things. They could make a bird look so magnificent and keep it up during flight yet on their own they were nothing more than discarded, beautiful but undeniably discarded, pieces that were slowly plummeting to the ground towards doom without their birds.

Somehow, Aerith felt for the feather.

Day one.


	10. October

**Author's Note:** I am not very happy with this one and I can't pinpoint exactly why but something just bugs me. I wrote and re-wrote and edited and got rid of the edits and put in totally different edits and wrote many more parts and edited and edited and edited and still it bothers me although it bothers me the least at this point as compared to how much it bothered me during any stages of that previously mentioned messed up process. But I'll let you be the judge of that.

For me, the entire season of autumn is like a beautiful disaster waiting to unravel. It's just so hauntingly striking (at least what I see on TV is because in my authentic _CANADIAN_ city, we often get snow by mid-October) with all its pretty colours amidst the naked "dying" trees and the colourful umbrellas on a bland rainy downtown street… Sometimes I wish I lived in my TV. Anyway, that's what inspired me. The way I wrote this one, which seems to be the most drabbl-ish (that sounds funny) I've written yet, was inspired by reading way to many stunning one-shots on that make me kind of want to crawl under my bed and never write again. :D

In other news, I had first fallen into one big rut somewhere in February/March and then I had writer's block and so weeks slowly became months for me… :\ But I'm still alive and kicking and I will finish this even if it kills me!

And oh, it just may.

PS: Thank you so much to everyone who has so far reviewed, added this as a favourite and put me and all my glory on alerts. You guys are wonderful and super duper encouraging and just plain awesome.

Okay, now I am done. :D

* * *

_October_

_(how many days, no…months, no…years has it been?)  
_

Lately, everything has been enveloped in a grotesque shade of green.

A colour that had once symbolized life had long ago become associated with pain and suffering and insanity. He was tired of the green; he breathed it, heard it and felt it in every last inch of his body. All he wanted to do was to see and feel and hear and taste another colour. Any other colour would do, although, he thought sluggishly, for some reason, pink seemed most preferable.

Time passed in unknown units. Seconds and weeks and months all intermixed with each other to become one long period of torture. But with every passing moment (or minute or hour or even day, perhaps), he felt less. He knew less. He cared less.

He cracked an eye open and looked and saw.

Green yet again.

It wasn't at all worth the difficulty of getting his brain to comply and perform the action (opening an eye required muscles that he could barely use and energy that he didn't have and willpower that he really didn't want anymore). Everything still looked the same, he was still practically immobile, and the sickening consistency of his now every-day existence still caused his thoughts to blur together, creating a chaotic mass of memories that because messed up with imagination.

Names floated in and out of his consciousness, bringing along emotions and recollections that Zack hoped were real.

_Angeal_…_Genesis_…_Sephiroth_…_Tifa_…_Cloud_…

sadness…insanity…pain…hate…suffering…

_Aerith_… pink.

Pink? But there was so much green…

It didn't make sense but not many things really did anymore. And somehow, thinking about anything that didn't make sense was more difficult than enduring the physical pain and the emptiness and the never-ending green all put together. So, closing his eyes once more for a restless state that somewhere (most likely in a world more messed up than that one) may have been identified as a form of sleep, he did the only thing he could still do with his own ruined self.

Damaged beyond repair, in one the most horrifying and disturbing ways possible, Zack lived.

* * *

Aerith had never imagined that it would feel so good to cry.

Some days she could hold up for longer and wait until her nightly prayers to anyone who could be bothered to listen for the tears to come streaking down her face. Those days were better than others. And yet some days she broke apart at the seams before getting out of bed in the morning.

There were no more days when she didn't cry.

Everything felt fake, stupid, and pointless. The flowers meant nothing without him beside her (and for a while, she had desperately wanted to rid herself of these living reminders of what once was). The voices were hopeless when they didn't lead him to her (in anger with their uselessness, she began practicing shutting them out; she'd been getting better). The colours slowly drained away along with her happiness (and with good riddance). She was all alone. She was broken.

He could fix her.

He hadn't come back.

She wrote to him. She prayed. She hoped.

Nothing.

All she ever got were hand cramps, tear-smudged letters, and depressing waves of loneliness.

All she ever wanted was Zack.

Her latest distraction was inching her flower wagon closer and closer to the towering city wall every day that she went up to sell flowers. Aerith didn't know what it was exactly that she planned to achieve with that, though. The voices haven't managed, for one reason or the other, to offer much advice on the subject. All she knew was that her feet and some untouched corner of her mind seemed to lead the way. So toward the wall she moved.

Maybe, she realized one day, she had a secret plan, unknown even to herself at the time, of somehow escaping, somehow fleeing and leaving everything behind in her wake. Maybe she could just run away to a desert somewhere, starve out and die (for that was what she heard people who ran away to deserts did). It might be lonely (since everyone who has previously ran away to the desert were dead) and torturous (since, she thought, slow death by starvation had to hurt at least a little) but that fate sounded better than the one she was living (maybe by just a little bit).

And yet, she could never go. She could not yet bring herself to leave Elmyra behind, with or without a proper goodbye. Common sense also told her that she could never go out into the unknown world without any pre-existing knowledge about it and her heart pitched in that she could never manage to run away without Zack.

He promised he would take her far, far away.

He promised he would come back.

He never came but she was still waiting.

Maybe, she also thought, she wanted proof that behind the walls, the world of blue skies and greenery and freedom existed. If she could only glimpse that what Zack talked about and promised her was real, maybe she would be okay.

If it would only prove to her that Zack himself was real and not just a figment of her now shattered, sad imagination, and that he was somewhere out there in the vast world of wonderfulness, maybe she would be okay.

Yeah, right.

Each day brought upon new wounds, unseen to the human eye but more painful than any cut, scrape, or bruise that Aerith could imagine. They brought along no crimson blood; she bled through her seemingly endless supply of tears that she only ever cried in solitude, on the ancient floors of her church where the voices of the planet screamed and threatened to overwhelm her and the ruined beauty of the architecture was far too easily sympathized with and the Turks could always take her as easy prey and the happy memories (for that was all that they would ever be) mockingly haunted her.

Her only haven.

So in solitude and sadness, she did the only thing that she could still do with her own ruined self.

Aerith lived.

* * *

And they _lived _happily ever after.

Unfortunately, "happily" had a different meaning in their dictionary and "The End." was nowhere in sight.

_(liar, liar…she knew his absence in seconds)_


	11. November

**Author's Note:** Thank you so much to everyone who has given this story attention, even with me missing for so long. I realize that I hardly have any legitimate excuses but I just…didn't have any stories to tell for a while. And yesterday, after almost a year, I randomly started to read FFVII fanfiction again and I was inspired to finally finish this puppy. Eleven down, one more to go. Woohoo!

By the way, November is very "Zack-centric" but even more so than October was "Aerith-centric." This is because Zack's death is probably one of the most legendary scenes in contemporary Final Fantasy fandoms (not to mention that one striking scene that I love so dearly and cannot watch without tearing up) and I have always wanted to write it. Also, I couldn't see how I could just ignore it in this story since it's so central to the Zaerith relationship. Please note that I tried to make it as true to the video game scene as possible but a few of Zack's lines and actions didn't work out too well in this story so I either changed them or omitted them. However, I think that this will only be noticeable if you take great care to compare and contrast the video game video to my story. So, without further ado, here is my take on the scene from Crisis Core, with a cameo by Aerith and allusions to other events in the Crisis Core storyline.

* * *

_November_

Zack knew from the moment he fully grasped the situation that he was going to die and boy, did it suck.

Here he was, in a conveniently located "middle-of-nowhere" before a small army of Shinra grunts with the end so close in sight yet completely unachievable nonetheless. The only thing that he could realistically hope for would be that the barely conscious Cloud, who was hidden not-so-greatly out of sight nearby, wouldn't be brought into the bloody insanity that was undoubtedly about to take place.

The fact of the matter was that he was pissed as hell for losing those four dear years of his life and his usually suppressed SOLDIER (or monster, depending on who was asking) instincts, courtesy of Shinra Inc. – oh yes, ladies and gentlemen, those instincts were very real – made him, for a lack of better word, _bloodthirsty_. Thus, Zack Fair was not going down without a gore-fest.

So much for being a hero.

If fate wasn't so cruel, under different circumstances, Zack might've had a chance. Maybe. He was, after all, the great Zack Fair, the elite and the mighty, the golden boy of SOLDIER while the "army" consisted of mismatched, non-enhanced, young and likely frightened Shinra rejects with rifles. But in reality, he was tired, not particularly confident, and aware that running for the rest of his life (which would ultimately be quite short either way) was pointless: those ex-employers of his would never stop hunting him and could easily make thousands of copies of high and mighty warriors to take him down.

"Boy, oh boy," he shook his head as he finally spoke. Fortunately, his voice didn't match the sad tone of his thoughts and he thanked his lucky stars, "The price of freedom is steep."

And what a shame that it was far too steep for him.

He unsheathed his sword and remembered Angeal one last time out loud.

"Embrace your dreams, and, whatever happens, protect your honor," his muscles tensed, ready for the inevitable, "AS SOLDIER!" Zack took off at full speed, swinging the Buster Sword. "Come and get it!"

So much for caring about being a hero.

Zack fought with only raw aggression and absolutely no hesitance. There was no pain but no satisfaction either. Each infantryman was just another obstacle, another swing of the sword, and another lifeless body. He couldn't help but wonder when it became like that.

Perhaps it was the mako; perhaps it was his breaking point.

The only things that remained in his mind, along with the will to fight, were the memories. They threatened to mess up his line of combat thinking, at moments clouding his judgment, but he didn't dare to try and rid his head of them; he wanted go down holding tightly to any last lingers of his miserable life, no matter how upsetting they would be.

_clang_

Once upon a time, he aimed to achieve the impossible: a little bit more paradise in the world and a little less sadness. A fool's errand, he saw that now.

_slash_

When he got in, his parents were so proud of him. He hadn't visited them in over five years.

_cut_

Angeal once taught him of honour over pride and glory. Zack made sure he never forgot.

_stab_

For the first time in years, as he watched Sephiroth lose it all, he felt mortal again; the feeling was the stuff of nightmares.

_bang_

Cissnei helped him run towards freedom…he never did find out her name.

_slice_

No one but him ever figured out that little ol' Cloud Strife needed a friend much more than he needed a mentor.

_dice_

Aerith was standing in her all too familiar white dress. Aerith was waiting. Aerith was hoping.

_die! die! die!_

He tried…

_dead._

Aerith, Aerith, Aeirth…

_and repeat._

**I am sorry. **

…

Bullet number one went _whoosh_. He didn't feel a thing; his sword _slash_ed in reply.

The next one hit close to his heart. He didn't give it much notice either.

Mako messed with his mind. It gave him too much confidence. It poisoned his judgment. It whispered of victory.

It lied.

The bullet after that hit its target and switched off the magical "mako effect" button. Pain hit in waves.

He faltered. He stumbled. He fell.

The fatal bullet didn't even make a noise. But there were more bullets after that.

He wished he could have had just one more chance to say goodbye or hello or anything else that could serve as an excuse to spend a moment with her. He wished that he could have had a chance to explain himself, to make her understand that he didn't mean to break her heart and leave and never come back. He wanted to write her a note or a letter or a memoir, if time allowed, to say how much he loved her, how much he missed her, and just how grateful he was for every second they shared. Too bad a dead man's wish meant nothing.

The world turned black and Zack felt as though he was falling.

But at the end, he reasoned, everything was finally made right. Death was natural. He was not.

Without warning, it began to rain.

Someone was crying. Maybe it was the Planet. Maybe it was her.

Aerith looked up rather curiously which may have been redundant since deep inside, she already knew. He wasn't coming and now she was just a permanently lonely figure amidst ruins and meaningless greenery.

It was in this new sense of profound nothingness that Aerith clasped her empty hands together after finding no solid object to cradle. The last pieces she had left of him were emptiness and memories and a pink ribbon woven tightly into her hair.

Still, no tears came; the rain refused to stop.

He lay in a mixture of rainwater, mud, and his own blood. The raindrops kept falling but he wasn't well aware of them anymore as he spent most of his remaining moments slipping in and out of consciousness, his thoughts making barely any sense even to himself. The process of thinking was little more than the most excruciating of pains. He wondered (slowly) if Cloud made it. Had he gotten out? Had they killed him too? Was he still lying back there, broken and helpless?

Wondrously, as if Zack's mushy thoughts served as a loud call, out of the corner of his eyes he saw Cloud dragging himself toward where he lay dying. The boy (man now?) looked like a mess but at least he was okay. Several minutes ago (which really felt more like years), he couldn't move a pinky or make any noise other than a whimper. Now he looked more alive than he had in almost half a decade.

The mako poisoning wore off just when Zack couldn't take care of him anymore. What perfect timing; irony was having far too much of a good day.

"Zack?" was the first thing Cloud said in over four years. His voice still sounded so young and his face looked even younger. Hard to imagine that this guy was in his twenties and tortured beyond comprehension.

Why so sad, old buddy, old pal?

Everything hurt like hell and Zack wasn't too sure anymore but he could vaguely recall saying something about dreams and honor and putting all of his last efforts into lifting the Buster Sword, which had never felt heavier, metaphorically and literally, and pushing it into Cloud's arms. Even if he had failed in so may other things, he wouldn't let the Buster Sword, or the things it stood for, die. Now it was Cloud's turn to try and be a hero.

Cloud said something and possibly screamed later too, but it may have been Zack's brain finally exploding. All he really picked up was "good night" which he thought was very appropriate, considering how tired and worn out he felt. Zack hoped that Cloud would survive. If anything, the kid deserved that much.

And then Cloud was gone along with the sword and the rain and the pain and the jumbled nonsensical thoughts. In their place was a brilliant light, with a green tinge but strangely enough, if he squinted and used the power of the imagination, it looked like a clear blue sky that showered him in feathers.

_That girl, she said that the sky frightened her._

Silly Aerith! It didn't look so scary to him. Instead it looked a lot like… freedom. Zack reached out his arm towards it and felt himself rising and being enveloped by the surprisingly cool light. It felt good.

He looked back one last time, saw Cloud making his way toward Midgar and remembered to ask for a final favour.

_If you see Aerith, say hi to her for me._

Finally within the light, Zack knew that he would wait for her for lifetimes if he had to. After all, forever was an awfully long time.

All would be well.


End file.
